Raven Mirthwood | + Follow Poet |
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The Crone

Peering through a starless veil, 
A pallid eye, above the din 
Spies furious shapes of tooth and nail,
Neath creaking giants with cracking limbs 

Motley creatures with a vicious bite,
Crooked spine and bony spurs
Caper 'round a flickering light, 
In mottled skins and ragged furs 

A ghastly fiend with nary an eye, 
Gaping maw and slithering tongue
Stretches taut a leathery hide, 
To beat upon a tethered drum 

Incantation from a gnarled crone, 
Fingers outstretched— snatch the moon 
Thrusted steel through breast and bone, 
Herald forth an inexorable doom 

The suffering flesh— a siren song, 
To The Horror lurking yon The Pine 
Spawned in The Void of the Cosmic Throng,  
Of shape and form that breaks the mind 

Piercing through the flickering veil, 
A carnal gaze that churns within 
Eyes curious shapes that bow and wail, 
Repays in kind with a charnel wind 

An eldritch tongue— like scoured sword,  
Smites the menagerie on its knees 
Withers the vine and sours the gourd, 
Parts bird and bark from the trees 

Sinewy beings with leathery wings,
Borne from the flame, flit to-and-fro 
Pluck lifeless things like violin strings, 
To marionette a puppet show 

Neath weeping giants with blackened limbs, 
Infernal corpses, made to parade 
Croak blasphemous hymns through hideous grins,   
The crone crows— for the sleep of death, betrayed

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the cold, cruel dark— an icy refrain, 
The soft, pallid glow— now a scarlet red
The crone props her bones on a crooked cane, 
And ventures forth with her army of the dead

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